


Yours.

by BunnyJess



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Consensual love potion, Demiromantic Jason Todd, Demisexual Jason Todd, Getting Together, Gifts, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Protective Dick Grayson, Scars, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Sugar Daddy, Teasing, admitting feelings, canon typical violence mentioned, mentions of cases, self doubt, soft behind closed doors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26683621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunnyJess/pseuds/BunnyJess
Summary: This vial is the most truthful of love potions. For it to work two people must take it at once. Unlike the more common ones, ones mages of lesser moral sell, this one is special. It only works if there are feelings already present making it easier for the pair to admit how they feel. There is no forceful love, no sudden obsession. If love is there it’ll shine through, if not then my condolences.Some days Roman really feels the need to kill his assistant Miss Lee, today is not one of those days.
Relationships: Roman Sionis/Jason Todd
Comments: 4
Kudos: 69





	Yours.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dnky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dnky/gifts), [dxs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dxs/gifts).



Glass clinked as the hand-cut tumbler met the glass topped coffee table. Jason had swung by Roman’s after patrol as he liked being able to vent to someone whose history with the family only went back as far as Jason messing with him.

The older man sitting in front of him looked nothing like the crime boss/CEO Gotham knew him as. Carved black mask abandoned to show off the scarred skin caused by his parents beatings, beatings that led to Roman burning his parents and their mansion to the ground. Intricate white lines ran across his jaw, nose, eyebrows and forehead. Some just caused by his head hitting the floor after a sharp slap while others had been put there intentionally by his father.

With black hair, pale skin, and fierce eyes Jason could have spent the night looking at Roman. In his quiet moments alone, curled up in a safe house he’d allow his mind to drift. Futures of he and Roman ruling over Gotham’s underbelly and fighting the wrongs he wished hadn’t been in his childhood.

It was ridiculous though, to hope, as Roman was too good-looking and influential (even outside of the crime business) to ever look at someone like Jason.

He stands to go, hands splayed across his thighs and blushes as he catches Roman’s gaze being intently drawn there. They’re one of his biggest hang ups. Bigger than anyone else in the family, sure, they’re power and pure brute strength but then again, that’s all Jason can see when he looks at himself. Brute strength and nothing good. Thick scar running from his lip into his hair, a damning white streak at the front that’d give away his identity as Jason Todd-Wayne if he was caught in costume. Not scars found on handsome people. Thighs too large to be able to wear cargo trousers or jeans straight off the rack; Jason having to take in the waist or let out the thighs on every pair he got, except that one pair of black Vivienne Westwood jeans Roman had gotten for him. They fit like and glove and Jason wore them most days.

Jason clears his throat and looks towards the window. “I’ll get, um, yeah, I’ll get out of your hair.” He leaves without letting Roman reply. 

Two days later there is a knock at Jason’s window. His current safe-house having become more like a permanent apartment as the manor had started feeling a little too constricting. He glances outside and finds his older brother stood there, grinning like a puppy on the beach and holding a gift. Rolling his eyes, always important to get that in first before letting Dick in to keep up the pretence of annoyance, Jason disarms the security and walks off towards his kitchen.

One glass of strawberry milk and one cup of tea later Dick finally stumbles his way up to the island. How a man with such amazing acrobatic skill can be so fucking clumsy Jason doesn’t know and doesn’t think he’ll ever have the brain power to work it out. Even if Lex Luthor and Ray Palmer combined their intelligence Jason still believes they’d never be able to unravel that mystery. It’s like gravity only forgets Dick Grayson exists when he’s flying.

“Strawberry milk? Yes!” His older brother crows. Once again making Jason question how he’s the oldest of them all.

“What’s with the gift? Whose birthday did I forget?” He tried for a light laugh but it comes out too self-deprecating.

Dick stares at him for a moment in confused silence. He sets the glass down and hands over the gift. Matte black paper with glossy black ribbon. A matte black tag with elegant handwriting are attached.

Flipping the tag over makes Jason nearly choke on his tea. It’s for him but the name it’s signed as, it’s a name he didn’t think the person liked. It had been something he’d called him as a joke after the jeans had been followed by a bomber jacket from the same designer.

“ _My precious Jay, please accept this token of my heart. Yours, S.D.”_

S.D. Stood for sugar daddy, a joke Jason had nervously said when Roman had handed over the expensive jacket. His mouth running away from him before he could stop it. He’d dropped the jacket and fled, Roman finding him a few days later and managing to reassure him that he’d understood it was all a joke. Or at least, he had pretended that. Jason’s not so sure now.

He glances up at Dick hoping his cheeks aren’t red as he fights back the blush threatening them with every ounce of control he possess. Helpfully, as his older brother is always so inclined to be, Dick shrugs. “Found it on the roof near the skylight you leave for patrol through.”

Jason wants to ask why his brother was on the roof in his civilian identity and quickly thinks better of it. If he wants to relive his circus days dropping off rooftops while not in gear then Jason won’t judge. He’s got his own hang ups from childhood to deal with; busting the kneecaps of every dealer who tries to sell to children just one of the many.

“Who’s it from?” Dick asks, leaning over as if he hasn’t already read the tag.

“A friend, it’s just a little joke between us. I’m sure it’s, like, a stupid little toy or something.” He looks back at the gift in his hands and hopes Dick doesn’t push.

Unfortunately for Jason his brother is in the mood to be an annoying, nosey older brother and Jason is the only one not at school or college thanks to graduating magna cum laude in literature from Columbia a month ago meaning he’s back in the city while the others aren’t. Dick reaches over and tugs on the ribbon. Not hard enough to open it, just hard enough to get his point across.

Jason huffs and pulls the ribbon. The fabric and paper falling away to reveal a velvet black box. He lifts it, the hinge not making a sound indicating it’s value and the care put into the box alone. Inside, nestled amongst black satin, sits a stunning watch.

The Breitling Chronomat 41 watch looks up from its home. The blue dial and glass cover glinting in the light, made all the more obvious by the polished steel and rose gold surrounding the face and leading off into the strap. It’s simply stunning while also being one of their most expensive watches. Jason would know, he’d remarked on the one Roman had worn multiple times. Something about it’s simple yet elegant design spoke to him; more-so than the flashy smart watches Bruce had tried to get each of his kids to use.

Lifting the rare timepiece out of the satin should feel slightly wrong but to Jason it feels right. There is no point in owning something like this watch or a car like a McLaren P1 and only bringing them out for special occasions. He isn’t surprised to find the watch fits his wrist to perfection; just like the numerous other items Roman has given him over the years.

“Wow Jay! That’s expensive. Who are you banging to get that?” Dick asks as if it’s any of his business.

“No-one. Roman just likes getting me things,” Jason grins, a vicious thing that’s more snarl than smile, “especially if he knows I’ve been having a tough time with the family.”

Dick stares at him for a long minute, Jason suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the obvious way his older brother is studying him. He shakes his head and smiles softly at Jason. “I don’t think that’s the only reason.” His voice is soft, too soft, almost pitying. As if he’s implying Roman is into him. If he was then Dick would feel sorry for Roman, Jason would bet his life on it.

He takes the very mature approach and sticks his tongue out. Eyes drifting down to the watch before he can catch himself. It really is a masterpiece of its craft. He should know, he’d spent months putting Thomas Wayne’s watch back together for Bruce back when he’d been Robin and there’d not been as much conflict.

Over the course of the next few hours the brothers spend time working on a trafficking case that’s got the rest of the family stumped. _It must do, if they’re bringing me into it_. Jason’s contacts through the less legal side of Gotham providing information the family would usually only get with fists and threats.

It’s only once Dick leaves that Jason finally gives the watch more of his attention, along with the box it came in. There is an engraving on the back, surface smooth enough he hadn’t noticed it when he’d placed it on his wrist. ‘ _Oh how ardently I admire you._ ’ Jason’s heart tries to flutter, his mind winning out and stomping it down.

It’s a timepiece that’s no longer in production so it was probably the last owner who had it engraved, Roman wouldn’t, he doesn’t. Jason _knows_ Roman doesn’t see him the same way. He’s too good-looking, too powerful, to ever want a relationship with someone as ugly inside and out as he.

The gifts don’t stop over the next week. Jason hasn’t been able to swing by Roman’s and talk to him. He’s been stuck working the trafficking case with the family. His contacts meaning he’s leading the thing while the rest of the Bats and Birds flutter off to where he tells them.

It’s a hard slog but the small reminders that someone is thinking of Jason help. Take-out arriving just as he gets home, always from a different place and always Jason’s favourites for that cuisine. A grocery shop to restock his fridge after he’d been up for 48 hours and had only eaten the take-out Roman had sent. Huge bags of fresh produce and healthy cold drinks, cartons of loose leaf tea from the best supplier, even a bundle of multi-vitamins.

_Just doesn’t want his friend dropping dead_.

One night, while crawling through an air duct a rogue piece of metal slices through his combat trousers and into his thigh. The next morning he finds a brand new military grade first aid pack and new cargo trousers on his fire escape. The beautiful matte black bag that contained the trousers holding a tiny note. ‘ _Please be more careful. S.D._ ’

The case finally wraps up. Thirty-nine women and children being saved and fifty people arrested, including the dickhead in charge. It took the whole family to bring them down, spread out as they were across two warehouses and the docks.

It’s exhilarating work. Jason’s adrenaline from the fight and saving so many people leading him away from the family. Rooftops eaten up by long strides under steel-toe capped boots.

He swings into Roman’s penthouse before his mind connects where he is. As soon as he realises he curses himself. Someone like Roman probably has a multitude of people catering to his every need in bed at this time of night. He’s about to turn and leave when the light flicking on makes him jump, too lost in his thoughts as he is.

Roman is stood leaning against the door to the living room. Towelling dressing gown in red looking soft against his scarred skin. Hair sleep tousled and a crease down his cheek that’s clearly from his pillow. Oddly, in Jason’s opinion, there seems to be no lingering marks or evidence to suggest Roman has been seeing anyone.

“I missed you.” Roman says, face and body too open for Jason to feel comfortable. No-one misses him, he’s poison, they all prefer it when he’s not around. Roman can’t have missed him.

The man in question shakes his head with a sigh. Smile wavering as he looks Jason over. There are blood splatters on his uniform and his jacket has a tear from a lucky knife swipe. Other than that he’s fine. Working with the family reducing his injury risk to that stupid piece of metal.

Two drinks are poured and set on the coffee table and Roman flops onto the sofa, arm thrown over the back as he nods his head at Jason. He reaches out for a clear box. It’s contents are a touch confusing, a small vial of liquid Jason would swear swirled like a galaxy and a folded piece of parchment.

It’s only once he’s seated that Roman does anything with the box. Holding his hand out for one of Jason’s knives. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d used them to open a package, usually something he’d gotten for Jason, so he hands one over. It’s a decent enough switchblade, better used for prying open windows or slashing tyres than stabbing someone due to its short length.

A deft flick of the wrist and Roman breaks the seal atop the container. Handing the knife back over and letting his fingers brush against Jason’s skin where his sleeves have ridden up. He tilts the box towards the younger man, chuckling at the confusion he sees.

“Read the parchment, my glasses are on my desk.” Roman states. It’s that tone that brokers no arguments and is a good indication that he’s nervous.

Jason unfolds the paper. It feels like the invitations Alfred sends out. The paper high enough quality to be edging towards card. Swirling cursive is in the middle. Small splotches around it as if someone hadn’t gotten excess ink off their fountain pen.

He clears his throat and begins to read. “This vial is the most truthful of love potions. For it to work two people must take it at once. Unlike the more common ones, ones mages of lesser moral sell, this one is special. It only works if there are feelings already present making it easier for the pair to admit how they feel. There is no forceful love, no sudden obsession. If love is there it’ll shine through, if not then my condolences.”

His hands shake as he lowers the paper. Roman wants them to share a potion that’ll reveal how he feels about the older man, but only if those feelings are returned. They must be, even minutely, if Roman is suggesting this. He dares to glance up at the other man, that sharp gaze watching him with laser focus.

“I don’t…Rome, what?” Jason feels his cheeks flare with embarrassment. He’s a literature graduate, he should be able to string a fucking sentence together.

Roman plucks the bottle from the box, dropping it onto the floor as he carefully placed the bottle between the two glasses of Glenfiddich Scotch. “I will not change our friendship, but I just know, I cannot carry on not knowing.”

It’s easy work, tugging out the stopper and pouring equal amounts into each glass. They clink them together and swirl the contents to mix the potion in. Both tipping the glass and drinking the two fingers of Scotch straight down like it’s cheap tequila.

A warm glow flows through Jason’s body, everything feeling so much more. He looks over at Roman and nearly freaks out. The man is surrounded by a soft red glow, not unlike the one he can see around his own hand. He stands to leave when Roman catches his hand, turning him back to face him and making Jason suppress a shiver for how close they’re standing.

Roman reaches up with his other hand and cups Jason’s cheek. “Always, Jason; you are my Gilbert Blythe, my Edmond Dantès, my Mr Darcy. The love of my life and yet you don’t seem to want me to admit how I ardently love and admire you.”

Jason chokes out a sob. Tears stream down his face as he feels the sincerity with which Roman speaks. All the gifts, the late night talks, the concern, the compliments. It hits him all at once. Years of friendship now seen through the haze of courtship. Roman had been waiting for him. He’d been patient and understanding. He’d been everything Jason knew he was, all because he loved him.

The younger man grips the back of Roman’s neck, pulling him down to crash their lips together. It’s uncoordinated and shines of inexperience yet the depth of feelings behind it makes Roman sigh.

He pulls Jason closer, pressing their bodies together and tilting the younger man’s head to deepen the kiss. Both men moaning as they explore and touch. Finally allowing themselves to unleash the desire they’ve been containing for years.

Jason startles and sucks in a sharp breath when Roman’s hand skins his hip. Freezing under the torrent of emotions flowing from his friend.

“I haven’t…I’m not…Fuck!” Jason grumbles. Dropping his head to Roman’s shoulder. He drops his voice to a whisper, admitting one of his deepest secrets. “Sex isn’t something I’ve ever wanted, not until I fell for you. I haven’t ever, not that I wanted at least.” 

Roman tightens his grip and holds the younger man. Rage at those who hurt Jason burning bright and fighting with the utter joy at his feelings being returned. He will never allow someone to hurt Jason like that again. If he’d known, if he’d been there, Jason wouldn’t have suffered.

“We go at your speed.” He states it calmly and clearly so Jason actually takes his every word in. “Whatever you want, however far you want to go. I’m just happy I get to hold you and love you.” He curses the world as Jason shudders in his arms. A whispered ‘yes’ his only reply.

His assistant Miss Lee might have sourced the potion as a joke due to her annoyance at their ability to dance around the topic. However, Roman can’t find himself being mad at her when it’s gained him such a wonderful truth from his friend. _Partner?_

He doesn’t care what they name themselves, so long as they’re together.


End file.
